RIP BILLY MAYS

You may think the only way for Billy Mays to put out that kind of energy about a cleaning product would be for him to be tweaked out of his brains on meth.

You are most likely right.

But F U douche, he had access to genius. You know...while you're sewing farts into the couch cushions waiting to call his 800 number for schlocky products, he's banking pimp-ish cash flow. Billy owned a chunk on all the schwag he sold. So take your jokey bits and jam them up your stink button.

I loathe the notion of tipping a cap to a dye-bearded dude, but watching Billy late night full tilt on mushrooms really kicked the whole trip into a new time-space locality. Now I'm left with that Slap Chop quiff...didn't he get irons clapped on him for hookery?

Nice trip Billy, rest easy
J-Stache

3 NIGHTS IN THE COUNTY STIR

Monday afternoon I got pinched.
Thank you for your concern
By Tuesday I got tatt-ed up
To prevent my tush from being "burned"

Dudes watch you pee
Dudes watch you poop
Press weights, watch Oprah
Fix a Honkies v. Chicano game of hoops

There's 4 to a pen
1 to a cot
If you are asked to play Twister
Most definitely do not .

Shivin' bitches daily,
J-Stache

BOB DYLAN: PENCIL THIN PIMP

Damn brother! I had to smash my mug up against the computer to screen to get a look at that pencil thin pimp stache on Jack Frost here.

Bob is a straight gangster at that. One time, I was in Cheyenne, Wyoming at the Triple Creek Ale House working a stint as a dish washer when Bob rolled up on fuck-all loud Harley. When some cycle club quiff stepped on his boots, he cranked him with a pool cue across the back of the neck. The club got quiet. We all waited for what was next. Bob went over to the jukebox and drop a quarter in. The place was so still, that coin hitting the machine was like a bomb going off. Several people commented that it was in poor taste to play his own song, but I was always a big "Isis" fan and didn't mind. In any event, leave Bob's boots untarnished.

THE WIND IT WAS OUTRAGIOUS!!!
J-STACHE

ON BEING BUDDIES

It's nice to have a buddy. You can get great 2 for 1 deals on blues jeans and loafers while still having plenty of space for personal style in your shirt/jacket wear. I'm sure Jack-O here had plenty of occasion to wear that baseball jacket...coaching "T-Ball" to the kids an all.

Me and Oates used to be like that.

Oatesie...it's raining in New York, I smoked up my last roach and I just illegally downloaded the new Dylan album. Call me man.

Old-school rock n' soul, sweet fresh and funky John Oates,
J-Stache

WHATCHYA GONNA DO ABOUT IT, HAMMER???

One of my last paid gigs playing percussion was for MC Hammer on the track " Turn This Mutha Out". That badass conga part during the verse is me. Bitches have sampled it all over the place and I haven't seen a single residual. Still, I can't complain. I got on his payroll for like 18 months. I took my baggy pants per diem and started a call girl service called "The 4-Handed Hammer Polish". We made a pretty good run of it until The Clap sidelined a city councilman and we got raided. Ah, the 90s.

Suckle,
J-Stache

PAINTED LADIES

I like to paint ladies.

Hold still,
J-Stache

THE HISTORY OF BEN-WA BALLS

I preach the beauty of a strong canal, whatever it may be. Take this lesson and history of the Ben-Wa Ball into the weekend with an open-heart.

SEE OATES!!! I'M NEW AGE!!

Send hot chick photos to: ridethemustache@gmail.com

Tickle, tickle...pull!
J-Stache

RARE SIGNED PRINT, ONLY 10 AVAILABLE, ACT NOW!!

RARE BITCHES!! RARE!!

For a limited time, I am offering 10 signed lithographs of my likeness and throwing in the Oates for free! ACT NOW ON EBAY! For only $1,299.99 you can have a piece of rock n' soul history. Super rare.

SLOW RUNNER: I FIND HITS BITCHES

Fuck Clive Davis! I found Micheal Flynn of Slow Runner. Not only does he writes hits bitches, but underneath that tee-shirt he is cut up like Groundskeeper Willie. I'm inviting him to SWINGER HUSTLE FEST 2009, report back on his man hammer then. Meanwhile, enjoy my A&R skills hookers!

PayPals to ridethemustache@gmail.com,
J-Stache

ANOTHER BAD DAY AT THE ZOO

Perhaps you recall my last trip to the zoo with Sully The Lab? Summary: Sully jumped the fence and put the wood to a tiger, then we got stomped by the cops.

I headed back up town this weekend, just to see if the felines were still pissed. I brought a piece pipe, and by that I mean my 4 foot mechanized bong. Those fuckers lured me into the fence with that old school "nah man, it's cool yo" bullshit and moments later I was running for my very ass.

I did drop 2 whole blotter sheets of acid in their kiddy pool out of spite, so I would say be careful for the next week or so if you plan on dangling ass over the fence or something.

Hitting switches on bitches,
J-Stache

DAVID CARRADINE & THE DANGERS OF CHOKE & JERK

RIP David Carradine. Kung-Fu was the shit. You were pretty bad-ass as Woody Guthrie too my man.

Anyways, I'll take this opportunity to warn you against Erotic Auto Asphyxia, or as it's more readily know The Choke & Jerk. I realize that you drop the nut of a lifetime doing this stuff, but nothing is worse than being in Thai hotel dead with a ribbon around your neck and dong. If you are into this thing, I strongly recommend you develop a Whip-It habit and burn one down in the beautiful haze of chemical intervention. Works pretty much the same and you seldom die.

Make a mess safely people,
J-Stache


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GAY FUNDRAISER UPDATE: LET'S GET WET!

So far, I've been sent two vinyl records (Wham and Liza Minnelli), a 50% coupon for exfoliating cremes and this postcard from Bruce and TJ enjoying cocktails & water sports. I'm not sure which world you fuckers live in, but this stuff does NOT trade well in the weed/pills market. I reiterate my service paid to gay self-confidence in the 80s and plea for my due, cash settlement. Paypals to ridethemustache@gmail.com.

Weed service on the way,
J-Stache


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HALL & OATES & J-STACHE

Sweet, fresh and funky. Get some.

J-Stache


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ME & RINGO

I'm kind of a big deal.

Bull-whipping bitches,
J-Stache


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HOW TO STOP SMOKING CRACK: BOBBY BROWN

Dr. Sucio Sanchez has me involved with some experimental therapies aimed at helping me quit crack. For a while, he had me pay a little person to junk-punch me every time I touched a pipe. That was working until I spiked the little fuckers afternoon coffee with mescaline and convinced him to join a travelling carnival.

Now, I'm supposed to watch this video any time I get the itch. Theory goes, seeing what a douche Bobby is will infiltrate my thoughts on the subconcious level and make me not want to smoke crack. So far so good, except I now have an over-powering urge to slap the shit out of Whitney Houston while wearing bike shorts and red tube socks. Progress.

Boner,
J-Stache


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